Calm Down Dearest: Broken Fruit

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I feel like I’ve just been shagged in the bum hole. Pants round the ankles, bent over and taken from behind. Why can’t technology just fucking work? It’s literally the bane of my life.

Early this week I was chuckling to my little self as I saw BlackBerry users worldwide being tormented with a crumbling network system, bringing their handsets to a grinding halt. I rather enjoy being smug knowing that I’m using some form of superior technology to my counter parts. In fact, it’s for this reason alone why millions across the globe opt to use an Iphone – because they think they are superior. Just consider it for a minute… most people you know that own an Iphone are complete dildos right? I’d actually go as far as saying that you can tell a lot about someone’s personality just from the phone that they own:

· Iphone – self appreciating prick

· BlackBerry – either forced to own it by their employer and bought it to pretend they’re important enough to need one

· Android – like to kid themselves it’s an Iphone, when clearly it’s not. You know, the hippy types.

· Nokia – either they’re one of my parents or so spasticated they can’t use anything else.

Yep, I use an Iphone. I am, quite unashamedly, one of the self appreciating dildos you scour at on the train because I do nothing else but read the digital copy of the Metro on my tiny screen when the paper itself is on the seat next to me. Either that or I pay sixty nine pence to play Angry Birds when I could actually do it for free on an Android. Why? Because I can pay sixty nine pence for it, that’s why. I’m no modern day peasant. So as a user of such superior technology, it pains me to confess that the Iphone is also a massive floppy cock. There’s a brand new operating system you say? Well that’s excellent news. In readying my Iphone for the upgrade I was given a word of warning by a friend, explaining that he knew a girl who lost all her contacts in the process. My response to which was “yes, but I’m not a silly bitch”.

Apple promised me lots of new magical enhancements, which in fairness are all present. What however, Apple neglected to tell me was that the new upgrade would rape my phone for all of its contacts regardless as to whether or not I was in fact a silly bitch. Yep, every single contact has been wiped leaving me, quite helpfully, with only my own number in my contact list –you know, just in case I need to ring myself to remind me how pissed off I am with Apple metaphorically pillaging my insides.

I’ve categorically fallen out of love with my Iphone. What makes me hate my Iphone even more is that I’m going to have to lower myself to creating one of those Facebook groups for pathetic people who either can’t use technology or continuously lose things, entitled “I’ve lost all my numbers because I’m a whopping div, post them all please. MEGALOLZ”. I wish I’d never sold my first ever phone. I miss those simple times. I miss you Bosch 509e. I miss your pretty orange face.

You can find even more witticisms from Teddy every week in Calm Down Dearest, dig through the archive to get a taste.